Home
by Mechanical Prince
Summary: Just some silly, fluffy one shots if Neal and Peter were actually-sort-of an old married couple. Established relationship. (Technically OT3)
1. A Close Shave

"Jesus Christ!" Neal's screams from the bathroom were never a good sign.

Peter rushed over. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Peter, did you - it's a jungle in here!" Neal gestured at the piles of hair around the shower drain and bathtub rim.

"Oh." Peter shrugged. "I forgot to clean up, sorry."

"Peter, this happens every time you shave. It looks like something's trying to crawl out of our pipes! At least Elizabeth knows to pick up after herself."

"Ok, so I leave my shavings around once in a while, sue me."

"You know," Neal wagged a finger, unable to suppress a smile. "Maybe I will."

Peter rolled his eyes but played along anyway. "Please your Honor, isn't there anything I can do?" He clasped his hands together, a half-grin cracked on his face. Neal looked up thoughtfully.

"Well... maybe if you clean this up and give the judge a peck, we can overlook this... incident."

A gasp. "Are you asking me to bribe the court?"

"Think of it as community service."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle.

"Deal." He leaned in to give Neal a big ol' smooch.

Caffrey smiled coyly. "Well Mr. Burke, you seem to have a solid case. I declare: not guilty."

"Thank you, Your Honor, it won't happen again."

"Well, a little bit of trouble every now and keeps things interesting, don't you think?" Neal winked and skipped out of the tiled bathroom, leaving Peter smiling and shaking his head.


	2. Beer

The evening crept up on Peter and Neal who sat lazily on the porch overlooking the yard. The rosy blanket of dusk settled over the sky while the two drank beer in silence. Peter liked that they didn't need to talk all the time - just drifting in the blue pools of Neal's eyes was enough. It also helped that he was slightly buzzed.

Neal took a swig, his pouted mouth meeting the lip of the bottle. Leave it to him to make the most mundane look overtly sensual. His gaze locked on to Peter's, drinking in more than just the beer. Peter couldn't help but stare. He wasn't even trying to hide his roaming gaze, which usually meant that he was tipsy. Neal liked this Peter, the one that always got a little too cuddly after a few drinks. He felt like he had the upper hand in these moments.

Peter smiled softly. "C'mere you." He patted his knee.

Neal's mouth curled in a humorous grin. He swished his beer with an air of casualty. "And what if I don't feel like it?"

"Neal, don't make me come over there and get you."

"You wouldn't dare." He placed his drink on the railing.

"Watch me." Peter stood and, in one swift motion, scooped Neal up bridal style.

"Peter. Burke. You will put me down this instant."

He returned to his seat, ex-con in tow.

"I believe that makes it four."

"Four what?"

"Four times that I've caught you."

Neal snorted. "You wish." He laid his head on Peter's shoulder anyway.

Suddenly the porch door opened.

"Room for one more?" El teased.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Peter called. "Get over here, honey."

Neal and Elizabeth exchanged glances.

"He's had a little too much to drink..." He explained.

"Figures." She winked.

"I am _right here_ , you know. _"_

Elizabeth laughed and gave in, gingerly sitting on Peter's free knee. He grunted but didn't protest. First silence washed over them, then a symphony of crickets began, their music the sound of faraway stars. The ones that were just surfacing winked in and out of existence against the cloudy sky. Darkness approached like a velvet cloak, and the smell of sparklers drifted in from somewhere in the neighborhood. Cars rumbled behind them. They sat like that for a while, ignoring Peter's possibly cut-off blood circulation. It was perfect.

Elizabeth broke the silence.

"I love this. It's so nice being with my two boys." She brushed the hair from Neal's face.

"And I love my favorite married couple."

"Well, I-"

 _Woof!_

A bark, accompanied by a streak of white.

El chuckled. "I guess I forgot to close the door."

Satchmo ran a few laps in the yard before throwing himself onto the group, creating a human/dog pyramid.

"Agh - my legs can't hold you two _and_ a dog!"

"Down, Satch!"

"Give the old man a break, Satchmo!"

The dog pile was now just a pile.

"Wha-who are you calling old?!"

"He's just teasing, hun - Satchmo, get!"

Satchmo ran back inside, panting.

"Aw, he just wanted to be part of the love-fest."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting him to _jump_ me..." Peter stood and dusted himself off, a few grass stains marking his shirt.

Neal and Elizabeth shared another look, this one decidedly more conspiratorial.

"What about us?" She posed.

Peter thought for a moment. "That wouldn't be so bad."

No sooner had the words passed his lips than the two were on him and dragging him inside.

"Not bad at all."


	3. Rinse 'N' Repeat

He was being watched.

Peter had his back to the dining room as he washed the dishes, but he could still feel the uncomfortable heat of Neal's gaze. He tried to ignore the sensation. _Tried_.

"What is it, Neal." He didn't turn around.

"Nothing." The smirk in his tone was evident.

The faucet stopped. "Don't give me that, Neal, I know you're up to-"

He was stopped by a pair of hands wrapping themselves around him from behind. He gasped as those same hands began roaming his body as they pleased. Neal's warm breath and soft curls tickled his neck, and kisses nipped along his shoulder as his shirt was slowly lifted...

"Neal, what is going on?!" Peter whipped around to face him, the heat in his face growing.

He bit his lip. "I just... get so hot watching you clean the dishes..."

Peter was taken aback. "You-you do?"

"Does it disgust you...?" Neal looked away.

"No! No, you just... uh, sit back and watch the magic."

"If you say so, Peter." He kissed the apron-clad agent before returning to his seat.

 **This went on for a week.**

Peter had taken over Elizabeth's usual chore, and while at first she'd been too happy to question it, she'd finally grown curious.

"Hun, why are you so interested in the doing the dishes all of a sudden?"

Peter grinned. "El, get this. Neal told me it turns him on to watch me do them."

"He said that?"

"Mhm." He whistled as the plates and cups clattered in the sink.

Elizabeth folded her arms. "...How long has this been going on?"

"A week."

"And you believed him?

"What? Why wouldn't I?"

"Hun, do you really believe _Neal Caffrey_ , art forger, wine connoisseur, and prison-escapee, has a _dish-washing_ fetish?"

Peter snapped up from the plates as if coming out of a trance.

"...Why that - NEAL!"


End file.
